Wicked Scandal (Misfits #2)

Chapter 12

CATHERINE

“Who’s going to hurt us?” Wilder questions. I have a feeling he already knows something he wants to hear me admit.

“I just mean figuratively.” I try to brush off the comment, but I should have known better.

“Why are you so scared then?”

My body starts to shake as I remember that day, those gunshots. I thought Troy was going to take me away from the pain and the violence. I thought I was going to be saved—that I was one of the lucky ones. “I signed my life over to him,” I whisper. “In more ways than one.”

I can’t look at him, so I keep my head down and be submissive just like Troy taught me. If I stay weak, then it hurts less.

But it’s not harsh words that demand the truth, it’s Wilder’s gentle soul begging to help me. And I want to let him. “What’s he got on you, Cat?”

The question crashes into me, making me realize just how much I revealed. “Nothing,” I blurt out.

“Oh yeah?” He aggressively sweeps my hair to the side and tilts my head. “Then how the hell do you explain the ghosting of his fucking handprint on your neck? He hurt you, didn’t he?”

His voice rises as the reality of what’s going on sets in. He knows, and I know it too, even as I shake my head adamantly.

“He beats you mercilessly, without care or regret, doesn’t he?”

Tears stream down my face as I choke down the truth. I wish I could tell him everything but that would only put us both at risk. Wilder will never let this go and I need to find a way to make him.

To keep him safe.

“Answer me!” Wilder shouts, rattling my bones. I’ve never seen him so worked up and angry. If I weren’t seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe he was capable.

I look at him, petrified that he’ll see the truth in my eyes, but I can’t control the emotions pouring out of me. “Please let this go,” I beg, my voice cracking on the last word.

I’ve already let enough walls down, this one has to stay up. If Wilder knew what happens behind the doors of my house, my whole world would change, and I fear it wouldn't be for the better.

Wilder’s features soften and he drops his head, running his fingers through my hair. “I’ll fucking kill him,” he says, his tone laced with intent. “Just say the word, and he’s a dead man.” He grabs my face in his hands and looks deep into my eyes. “Just the thought of him laying a finger on you makes me crazy.”

I put my hand over his as he palms my cheek, leaning into his touch. “I’ve got everything under control. I’m okay. I promise.”

His dark eyebrows dip and he looks down between us, realization dawning on his face as he senses my trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” He pulls me close, wrapping me in a scent that has the promise of comfort. “You don’t have to tell me. I already know. Just understand that I’m here for you and if you want me to intervene, I will.”

“I don’t want that,” I say without a second thought. “I can handle Troy. But this has to stay between us. If it got out…” My words trail off because I can’t even fathom what might happen. Troy would likely take me far away from Willow Creek. He’d start a new life somewhere else where he can start with a clean reputation and I’d probably be rat food in a cellar. Or worse, he’d hold true to his promise and feed me to the men he saved me from. Or to the police. Or both.

“All your secrets are safe with me.” He tips my chin with the pad of his thumb. “I promise. You can trust me, Cat.”

I believe him. I’m not sure why, but I truly feel like my secrets are safe with Wilder, and I feel like my body is safe with him, too. Possibly even my heart. Lord knows Troy doesn’t handle it with care. It’s high time I give it to someone who will protect it at all costs.

“I know I can,” I tell him with a shake in my voice. “And I want you to trust me, too. Which is why there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Of course.” He runs his hand down my arm, resting it on my lap. “You can tell me anything.”

Part of me knows this is wrong, going against Troy and sharing one of his sketchy campaign tactics, but I don’t want the Cromwells to get hurt in this process. If Troy wins, it should be a fair win.

“Before Troy left, he told me he’s digging into what happened a couple years ago with your brother. I’m not even sure what happened, but from what I heard, your stepmom, being the district attorney, helped have the case thrown out and I think Troy plans to create his own narrative of what happened.”

Wilder grumbles, “That son of a bitch.” His hands run through his hair and his jaw clenches. “Rome was protecting Elodie when that shit went down. In my opinion, and everyone else’s, that asshole got what he deserved.”

In hopes of getting a better understanding of the situation, so maybe I can help, I ask, “What exactly happened? If you don’t mind talking about it.”

His hands drop and he locks his fingers in his lap. “Elodie was visiting town with her mom and her sisters. This was before our parents were married, or even dating. She went to a party, gave Rome some shit, then left. Apparently he caught up with her in Ravencrest Park and she was in the midst of being assaulted by some of that shithole's finest. Rome stepped in and knocked one of the guys in the head with a broken pipe. Apparently he did it as the guy was trying to take Elodie’s clothes off.”

I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God. That poor girl.”

“Elodie ran off,” he continues. “And the guy he hit ended up in critical condition in the hospital. Thing is, he didn’t know who Elodie was at the time so there was no way of getting her statement about what happened. So Rome was charged. He lost his scholarship, his acceptance at UCLA, and his offer to play football there.”

It’s beginning to make sense now, so I take a guess at what happened next. “So once Elodie and her family moved here, Rome realized it was her and she was able to tell the truth—that Rome saved her?”

“Exactly. The charges were dropped, Rome got his acceptance back and they still want him to play ball. In fact, he leaves next month to start preseason practice.”

“How does Elodie feel about that?” It’s clear as day that Elodie and Rome are inseparable. How will they handle the distance?

“Actually, I think she plans to go out there and stay in an Airbnb for a few weeks before heading to Stanford. One way or another, they’ll make it work.”

“I’m sure they will,” I tell him as I rub my ankle, feeling the swell of it from being on my feet all day, every day.

He looks down as I massage it, his eyebrows raised. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing,” I tell him, wondering if he thinks this is another injury from Troy. Just in case, I explain, “One of the downfalls of being a teacher.”

I’m not sure why I’d care if he did think it was Troy, but there is still a part of me that defends his actions, even when I know I shouldn’t.

I feel his firm grip around my calf, and the next thing I know, my leg is lifted onto his lap. I give him a sidelong glance as he carefully removes my sock, exposing the chipped pink nail polish on my toes. I’m a little embarrassed that it’s been so long since I’ve had a pedicure.

“What are you doing?” I grin.

His thumb presses firmly into the arch of my foot, releasing knots and tension that have built up from long days at work. I literally have to hold back a moan. It feels so good.

“You said your ankle hurt.” He gives me a grin as he squeezes then goes back to using his thumb in my arch.

It feels good. No. It feels amazing.

I can’t break the smile on my face even if I tried. “Thank you,” I tell him. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

“That’s a shame,” he says with a disappointed tone. “You deserve to be spoiled every single day. In fact, it sort of pisses me off that you aren’t.”

I know there is so much he’d love to say about Troy. The hate in his eyes is clear. There is so much I’d love to say, too. But Wilder is respectful in that way. He could force me to talk. I am sure all it would take is him asking one more time before that wall I worked so hard to build comes crumbling down. But he doesn’t.

We sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes while I embrace someone touching me with care. Every few seconds my mind drifts to what would happen if my husband found us here. My heart rate kicks up and my palms sweat. But then Wilder smiles at me and the sensation ceases.

It doesn’t matter. Troy isn’t here. He will never know what’s been going on while he’s gone. Right now, all I care about is this time with Wilder. I know it will be short-lived, and after this weekend we’ll have to stop seeing each other, so I plan to enjoy it while I can.

Wilder hits a spot in my calf that has me wincing. The sound grabs his attention and he looks at me with his heavy dark brow raised. “That hurt?”

“Yes, but in all the good ways,” I tell him truthfully.

The warmth of his touch travels up my body. It’s a new sensation because it’s true, no one has ever rubbed my feet before, or pampered me at all for that matter. Unless it was a paid service like a massage or a pedicure.

I lean back on the arm of the couch, sinking into it as my body enters a state of relaxation.

His fingertips trail up my leg, just below my knee, sending shivers across my skin. He moves higher, teasingly slow until he reaches the sensitive flesh of my thigh. Each stroke has my body igniting with tingles of anticipation.

“Next leg,” he says, curling his fingers and flashing a devilishly sexy grin.

I watch him intently as he settles my leg onto his lap right beside the other. His lips part slightly and his tongue drags across the curve of his upper lip as he works aimlessly to make me feel good.

I bet he’d be amazing in bed. I’m sure his sole focus would be on the girl he’s with as he satisfies all her needs.

I shouldn't be thinking like that, but it’s hard not to when his strong hands are caressing my body.